


Since I Was Young (I Knew I'd Find You)

by TheForestAndTheBadger



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Academy Era, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Childhood, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-10 20:30:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5599810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheForestAndTheBadger/pseuds/TheForestAndTheBadger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma Simmons and Leo Fitz are Soulmates, and because of this, they can feel each other's pain.<br/>Will this bring them closer together, or tear them apart? This fic follows them from childhood, through their Academy years, to S.H.I.E.L.D and beyond...</p>
<p>[On Indefinite Hiatus]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This Is How It Begins

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amazingjemma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amazingjemma/gifts).



> This fic came around from a prompt from AmazingJemma, and little did i know what i was getting into 6 months ago, when I eagerly asked if I could turn it into a fic. This is now much larger than I expected, but I hope it is enjoyable.  
> This is my first published fic (!!!!!) So please leave feedback! :)  
> TW in this first chapter for Domestic Violence and mention of Child Abuse.

Leo Fitz was six years old, and climbing a tree. It was the best tree in the whole backyard, and his very favorite for pretending to be a monkey in.  
High above the ground, he squeezed his eyes shut, and imagined he was a small capuchin, or maybe a woolly monkey, like the ones in his new library book. 

From up there, he could pretend that the sounds filtering up from the house were simply the howls of monkeys as they communicated among the treetops. Either way, monkeys, were happy, and fearless, unlike himself. Monkeys wouldn’t have fathers who smashed dishes and shout, nor mothers who cried and pleaded during fights with afore-mentioned father. 

Still able to hear his parents fighting, Leo tried climbing higher, but fell instead. His palms scraped over the rough bark as he desperately tried to stop his descent, but the branches couldn’t prevent him from plummeting the several feet to the ground below. 

Tiny stones and twigs bit into his legs and forearms as he crumpled to the earth. He curled up against the foot of the tree, choosing to quietly cry to himself, rather than go inside. His scrapes and bruises and bleeding knees could wait until his father’s rage had blown itself out. Nothing was worth facing it at its worst. (He had found this out the hard way.) He rested his small curly head on his folded arms, and waited.

Miles away, Jemma Simmons was curled up on her princess themed bed, in her princess themed room, reading her favorite book about insects. Poring over the colorful, detailed illustrations of caterpillars and beetles, and eagerly devouring the text, she was entirely unprepared for the startling sensation of gravity pulling her down, palms abraded by phantom branches, and knees digging into stony ground, instead of the purple duvet beneath her.  
Mrs. Simmons came running, and held Jemma until her frightened sobs diminished to sniffs and hiccups.

“What happened?” she had asked repeatedly, and for the first time, Jemma was able to answer.

“I was falling, Mama. Not from my bed, but from something...higher. I felt like I was someone else. And I felt so scared and sad. I was so sad, even though I had no reason to feel like that, and I was happy just before.” She curled closer to her mother’s chest. “What is happening? Is there something wrong with me?”

Kissing her hair, Mrs. Simmons gave Jemma a soft smile.

“Nothing is wrong with you,” she soothed. “You just have a special gift, baby girl. I know this is scary, but you are going to be just fine.” 

Taking her daughter’s small hand (Jemma was still so young, despite her intelligence. Sometimes the intelligence and curiosity of this tiny person was bewildering.) Mrs. Simmons lead her downstairs and the two of them made sandwiches for dinner. When Mrs. Simmons gently asked if Jemma has any questions, or wants to talk about soulmates, Jemma shook her head, and rubbed at the invisible bruises on her palms, looking sad and slightly bewildered. Mrs. Simmons didn’t bring it up around her again for the rest of the meal, and instead tried her best to put a smile on Jemma’s face.

The sun was almost setting when Fitz heard the crunch of gravel, and a silence so loud, it made his heart rattle in his throat. He picked himself up, and made his way across the scrubby backyard, to open the back door. His mother turned to see him, her eyes red and arms wrapped protectively around herself.

“Oh my boy,” she murmured, and he threw himself into her waiting arms. She held him tight, rubbing circles on his back until he could breathe without crying and whispering Leo, my little lion man. My sweet, brave boy.

“Where’s Dad?” he asked, and her heart broke at the fear in his voice. “Will he be gone for a while?” Leo wiped at his face with his sleeve. “ I don’t want him to come back yet.”

Norah Fitz’s mind went back to the events that transpired barely twenty minutes before. From where she was crumpled on the kitchen floor, she had made an ultimatum, trying her best to keep her voice from shaking too badly. 

Don’t you dare hit me ever again, and leave your key, I don’t want to see you back. She hadn’t expected him to include his wedding ring alongside the house key on the table, but part of her felt only relief as he left without a backwards glance.

Norah looked down at her son, and gently wiped the tears from his cheeks, before looking him in the eye.

“I don’t know what your Dad is going to decide to do, or when we will see him next. But I promise you Leo, I’m not going to let him treat us badly anymore.”

To her surprise, Leo looked relieved. 

“Oh good.” He said. “I really don’t like it when he screams and-“his voice dropped to a mumble. “I don’t like it when he hits you. That scares me.”

“It scares me too.” Norah whispered, and Leo burrowed into her arms. Through tear-blurred eyes, Norah noticed his scraped and bleeding palms.

“Oh! What happened to your hands, Leo?” she cried, concern overriding all other emotions. He hemmed and hawed for a few futile moments, before she fixed him with a stern gaze, that without fail procured the truth.

“I was climbing the big tree out back. I was playing Monkeys, to try and…” he trails off into silence, but Norah knows what he was going to say. To distract himself from the fight. “And I slipped from the tree, and I fell.” He finished.

Norah gasped. “You fell from the tree, and you just sat out there? Why didn’t you come get me?” but even as the words left her mouth, she realized the answer to her own question. Oh, my boy.

“You know why.” Leo said softly. Past experiences had taught him not to risk putting himself in the path of his father’s wrath or punches.

“Come on.” Norah swiftly tugged Leo to his feet. “Let’s go wash those hands up, and put some bandages on them. That will make them feel better, yeah?”

He doesn’t let go of her hand as they walk upstairs to the bathroom. He is small for his age, Norah thinks. She knows he gets picked on at school for his size, as well as being in accelerated classes. Sometimes she worries if she was right to let him go into accelerated classes so early. He was just a baby a few years ago, it seemed. But surely it was better than him becoming constantly frustrated from being stuck in first year, and boring classes.

Later that night, after Leo had fallen asleep, Norah slipped into her own bed. (Which suddenly felt too large and lonely.) No longer able to push away the raw memories of the day, she cried. She prayed that Leo would never have to experience a love gone sour, like hers. She prayed that there would be someone out there for him, who was kind and saw his intelligence and oddities for the strengths they were, and not tease him, like he so often was. Someone to balance him, and make him the best version of himself. She prayed his heart would not break like hers.

Jemma Simmons was up past her bedtime. She sat at the top of the stairs, listening to her parents talking below. Despite their hushed voices, one word kept repeating. Soulmate. Soulmates. Jemma exhibiting signs of…Soulmate.

Jemma Simmons knew a lot of things, and there were few things she hated more than not understanding something. Earlier that day, her mother had offered to explain Soulmates, but Jemma knew the explanation would be muddled by her mother’s attempts to soften or prettify things, when all Jemma wanted was hard, scientific facts. She could understand facts. 

Her hands didn’t hurt as much anymore. They felt instead as if an antiseptic spray had dulled the pain, because it now was a bearable ache, which existed in the periphery of her mind. The sadness and fear she had initially had swiftly disappeared at one point, surprising her, even as the physical pain endured.

When she felt sure that her parents were unlikely to come up the stairs and interrupt her endeavors, Jemma tip-toed into her father’s study, full of dark leather arm chairs, and tall bookcases. Gathering an armful of her favourite scientific and medical texts, Jemma curled up on the woolen rug, and by the light of her flashlight, began to search for everything she could learn about Soulmates.


	2. Falling Together

By the time they are ten years old, Jemma had adapted relatively well to having a Soulmate.

She kept a small notebook on her person at all times, perhaps tucked into the pocket of her school uniform, or one time, held in place against her calf with her sock. She documented each ‘episode”, with all the dedication and precision a budding scientist could possess, mixed with the musings and ramblings that came along with her transition to adolescence.

_April 23, 1997. 10:13 am. Burning sensation on my fingers of my right hand. Pain was a 6/10, but got better after a few minutes. Perhaps an icebath was administered to the burned hand?_

_May 6, 1997. 5:07 pm. My Other Person has stubbed their toe (Left, Big Toe) TWICE today (Once at 4:15, and then again right now). They are very clumsy!! (I wish they were more careful.) They probably can’t help it though._

_May 10, 1997. 7:15 am. I’m in the car, on my way to school. I banged my shin getting into the car, and already I can see where it is turning purple. I try my hardest to be careful, and not hurt myself. Now that I know I have a Soulmate, I don’t want to hurt them, just because I wasn’t paying attention to my own body._

_I think about my Soulmate a lot. I wonder where they are right now, what they are doing. Are they having a good day? Do they think of me?_

_Mom says that a Soulmate is your best friend. I guess that part comes once you meet them. I could really use a best friend right about now. There are a couple of girls at school who are very nice to me, but I don’t think they would ever want to spend time with me outside of school._

_It’s fine. It’s FINE. I don’t have time for making friends anyways! I have horseback riding and gymnastics and 500 books I always want to read. I love learning! I love knowing about this big world, and all the tiny ways it works. I think…if I didn’t have all my books and homework I might find myself lonely._

_But…I’m not._

 

Meanwhile, Leopold Fitz was having a different reaction entirely to being a Soulmate. For starters, he had no concept of what a Soulmate was, or that he was one.

He took every unexplained ache and twinge in his body as a sign that there was something wrong, that his organs were malfunctioning and that his short life would one day abruptly end. Some days, the only thing that could help his anxiety attacks was to lock himself in his room and lose himself in circuit boards and wires until his mind cleared and the thrumming in his chest faded.

On those days, when he finally came downstairs, his mother would brush his hair away from his forehead and ask if everything was ok.

“You know you can tell me if there is anything bothering you.” She would insist, and Leo would nod, unable to meet her eyes. How could he explain that he thought he was dying?

 

On the day that Jemma crashed her bike into a ditch, Leo was in the middle of Math class.

_(Jemma was pedaling down the hedgerows behind her house. She had a day off school, and had decided to spend here afternoon exploring the roads behind her house, where suburbia melded with pastures. Her hair streamed out behind her from under her helmet, and she reveled in the freedom that she felt less and less as she grew older.)_

Leo was sitting at his desk, head bent over a worksheet, as he intently penciled in his sums. The only sound in the room was the scratch of writing, and an occasional muffled cough.

_(Jemma flew down an uninterrupted stretch of road, the warm sun on her bare face and arms, and the rush of wind sweeping any thoughts of caution out of her mind. So, when her bicycle wheel juddered over an uneven bit of cement, she barely kept herself from tumbling head over handlebars into a muddy ditch, and rather let herself half skid, half crash to a stop.)_

One moment, Leo was sitting at his desk, the next he was sprawled forward across his desk, a shocked yelp bursting into the quiet of the room, and his flailing limbs scattering his papers and books onto the floor.

He looked up from the floor where he lay, to see his teacher and fellow student’s all looking down at him. Some faces were full of concern, while others barely attempted to hide their sneers of amusement or maybe worse, their pity. He felt the rush of blood staining his face strawberry red, and a visceral wave of embarrassment washed over him. This had never happened before; he had never had an attack of such severity in public, let alone in front of his entire class. His vision blurred with hot tears, and legs shaking, he stumbled to his feet and fled the classroom.

_(Jemma’s hands shook as she pulled her bike out of the ditch, noting with dismay the deep scratches on the red paint, and the way the front tire was bent. She could hear her mother’s voice in her head, berating her for being careless and reckless and causing trouble. Jemma wiped her nose furiously with her sleeve. Her mother hadn’t wanted Jemma to get the bike in the first place, citing it as ‘un-lady-like and common.’_

_She was so distressed about her bike, it was several moments before she became aware of the grazes on her leg and elbow, and the cut on her knee. She sat down on the side of the road, inspecting her wounds, whispering unheard apologies to no-one and everyone, before getting up and slowly wheeling her bike back home.)_

Leo locked himself in a stall of the bathroom, before he let himself cry. It wasn’t that it had hurt, he had definitely had worse. It was the embarrassment of appearing weak and different. He already was odd enough, he didn’t need another reason for people to not want to be friends with him.

He leaned against the graffiti-ed wall, focusing hard on not hyperventilating, battling with his panic, feeling like he was drowning. He stayed in the stall until the bell rang, as he couldn’t bear the thought of having to walk back into class, and seeing everyone’s faces again. When he couldn’t hide any longer, he patted a damp brown paper towel against his burning face, before heading back into the hallway, head ducked low.

He slipped into the now vacant classroom, picking up his papers and books from where they were left on the floor.

“Are you alright, Leopold?” Leo jumped at the unexpected voice, spinning around. He hadn’t realized that Mr. Davies, his math teacher, was still at his desk. Leo relaxed the books from where he had clutched them to his chest, and nodded.

Mr. Davies had seen how the rest of the class reacted as the young Mr. Fitz had suddenly thrown himself across the desk and caused a commotion. He had heard the whispers after Fitz had fled, of ‘Freak’ and ‘Spaz’. He had scolded the rest of the students, reminding them that they were all older than Fitz, and had no excuse for being so rude.

To be honest, Mr. Davies had found that Leo’s incident had reminded him of himself as a boy, and the similar ‘accidents’ he had experienced. He had felt so confused and alone, before he had discovered that he was a Soulmate. These days, he and his wife were as content as two turtles, but he still remembered how hard a period of time it was, to be waiting to meet one’s soulmate, waiting for everything to fall into place and start making sense. He didn’t want to assume, but he had a pretty good hunch that Leo Fitz was going through the same thing.

“Does that happen often?” Mr. Davies asked gently, and Leo looked up with startled eyes.

“What happened to me in class?” he paused, sizing up Mr. Davies, and deciding if he could trust him. The grandfatherly old man had a good reputation for not allowing cruelty or teasing in his classes, and he was one of the few teachers that didn't talk to Leo condescendingly. “Yes. It-it happens a lot. It’s never been like that before.”

“I don’t mean to…If it is any help at all-“Mr. Davies struggled to find the right words. “When I was your age, Mr. Fitz, I was in a very similar situation to you, I believe. Odd things would happen to me, but they felt as if they were happening to another person.” He carefully watched Fitz, trying to gauge his reaction.

Leo nodded vigorously. “Yes! Exactly! It’s like, I’m feeling when another person gets hurt. I’ll be going through my day and I’ll feel something random, like an emotion that I have no logical reason to be feelings, or a burst of pain, even though I haven’t hurt myself.” He forced himself to stop rambling, a little embarrassed by how willing he was to overshare and spill out this secret. He lowered his voice. “Sometimes I wonder… if there is something medically wrong with me. Or mentally….” His voice faded away, and he busied himself with organizing his papers. “I don’t know.

” “I don’t think there is anything wrong with you. Are you aware of the term ‘Soulmate’?”

Leo wrinkled his nose. He was familiar with the word all right. He heard it peppered into he conversations of older, cruder boys. Whenever someone would stumble over their suddenly too large feet, or complain of growing pains, someone would joking jeer “Oooh, looks like someone has got a Soulmate.”

Their mocking tone was the same they used when talking about girls or sex, to hide the fact that it was something they desperately wanted, but didn’t fully understand.

“I’ve only heard of it as a joke, sir.” Fitz admitted nervously. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be associated with the word, from how he heard it talked about.

Mr. Davies sighed. There was a serious lack of knowledge about soulmates in school aged children. It was barely eve touched upon in health and relationship classes, and beyond that, grew into a semi mythical urban legend, when in fact it was a rare but not uncommon phenomena, having occurred throughout history and across cultures.

“All that pain you are feeling?? That is the pain of your soulmate. You feel what they feel, at the same moment. It connects you, and gives you a bond.” Mr. Davies said. He didn’t want to overload or overwhelm Fitz with everything all at once, so he paused, giving the boy time to absorb what he was saying, before continuing. “But when you meet- and all soulmates find each other- all that pain will be worth it. You will have a friendship that cannot be broken.”

“Do you have a soulmate?” Leo asked.

Mr. Davies smiled, and turned around a framed picture on his desk, so Leo could see.

“Yes. This is Mrs. Davies. We met when we were just 20 and 23 and have been together since.”

Leo looked worried. “Do I have to marry my soulmate? What about people who don’t have one? Are they missing out?” He brought a hand up to his mouth, nibbling on the skin around his nail.

“No, no.” Mr. Davies hurried to reassure. “You never have to marry your soulmate. Lots of soulmates have amazing platonic relationships, and you are far too young to worry about marriage anyways.” He joked, but quickly realized that Fitz was legitimately concerned about it. His tone turned more serious. “And people without soulmates can still live wonderful, fulfilling lives. Having a soulmate comes with its own burdens and rewards. Don’t think of yourself as better as or worse than others.”

Leo nodded, a smile threatening to break across his face. “Just because I’m different doesn’t mean there is anything wrong with me.”

And for the first time in a long while, he believed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, i want to apologize for this chapter taking so long. It was originally supposed to be a simple transition, explaining Leo's discovery of begin a Soulmate. Then it kind of got out of hand, along with school and life responsibilities.  
> Guess who posted the first chapter a week before starting a new semester of uni, without taking into consideration how that would affect the writing of chapter two?? *points at self*  
> Hopefully the wait hasn't put you off the fic! I already have the next chapters plotted out, so you won't have to wait so long ever again!  
> Also i had a really hard time writing Mr. Davies. I wanted to make sure he came across as kind and mentor-ly, and not predatory?? Please let me know :o  
> A massive thanks to the ever patient and encouraging, Amazing Jemma. <3


	3. I Hear You Calling

Jemma Simmons fell in love as fearlessly and freely as a bird learning to fly. Her fourteen-year old heart fluttered at the sight of the cute check-out boy at the grocery store, and the tall redheaded girl in her gymnastics class. She developed fiery crushes that she could never find the courage to act on, but rather let germinate and die inside her, waxing and waning as dependably as the tide.

With each flutter of her heartbeat she asked silently if they were the person she had been waiting to find, while gently knocking her wrists against the edges of tables, purposefully stubbing her toe against her locker; watching out of the corner of her eye for any reaction. She never saw one.

So when Tad, the 15 year old boy with long legs and an adorable lopsided smile (that made Jemma rethink her position of symmetry equating attractiveness) asked her out, Jemma was delighted. Tad was kind and funny, and even if he liked cars to the point of absurdity and movies Jemma had never heard of, she relished the idea that someone found her interesting enough to want to spend time with.  
He held her hand and her books in the school hallways, and they studied for exams together under the big shady tree in her backyard. The two of them shared one summer of giddy first love; the type that burns fast and bright, and quickly turns to ash.

Nearly a week before Jemma went to the Academy, Tad broke up with her.

“You knew this could never last,” He mumbled earnestly, scuffing the toe of converse sneakers against the ground, as they stood by the bike racks outside the school. “You- you are going off to America, and I’m just coming back here, to high school. This could never work out, and you deserve the chance to find someone over there.”

Jemma swallowed back every word of protest she could come up with, as she realized that every word he said was true. They never were meant to last, and she was short-sighted to even think so. However, no self-recrimination could stop the ache that grew and hollowed out her chest, or soothe the painful lump in her throat.

“So…we are over?” Jemma whispered painfully. “I don’t leave for a whole-“

“I don’t see any point in…can we just make a clean break?” Tad couldn’t even look at her. “I think you are really cool, Jemma, and I wish things didn’t have to be like this.”

“This is my fault. I knew I was going to uni as soon as I graduated. We should have never even tried to make this work.”

“I don’t regret it, though.” He insisted, before pausing. “Do….do you?”

Jemma couldn’t reply. She just squeezed his hand goodbye, and turned away, walking home as fast as she could.

Once home, she went upstairs to her room with barely a word to her parents. She closed the curtains and arranged the blankets on her bed to make a nest in which to burrow herself. All the while, her heart was aching, and her inner monologue was scathing.

_Did you think that he loved you? He is just a stupid teenage boy._

_Just because you are smart at some things, Jemma, doesn’t mean you know how to be in love._

_He wasn’t even that good for you. It’s not like you were going to marry him._

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

_I thought I was old enough to handle a relationship, but turns out I am_ too _old. Me going off to university at 15 was just too much for him._

She crouched down by her bookshelf of movies, pulling out the sleeve containing the two VHS’s of her Titanic box-set. As many emotions as were swirling around inside her, she hadn’t cried.

_Maybe if I cry, I’ll feel better. Catharsis._

She inserted the second VHS into the built-in player underneath the clunky old TV that sat atop her dresser.

She had no time for the first half of the film, the happiness, the buildup of Rose and Jack’s relationship.

She needed the sinking ship, the old couple holding hands as they chose to die together in each other’s arms, and that final gut-wrenching raft scene. If that couldn’t make her cry, nothing would.

 

Leo curled up on one end of the sofa, joining his mum as she watched the evening news.

“Are you ok?” Norah asked her son, noticing the way his arms were curled tight around his ribcage.

She reached over a hand, ruffling her fingers tenderly through the dark blond curls that were getting overdue a cut; they stuck out from his head like scribbles of pastel on paper.

“’M okay. It’s not me,” Leo mumbled. “It’s my Soulmate. They are havin’ a bad day, I think.”

Norah wished she knew more about Soulmates, so that she would be able to help her son during times like this. It was painfully clear to her that she had no Soulmate, but the knowledge that her son would have someone good for him brought her indescribable comfort.

“Can I help, baby?” She ventured.

Leo wrinkled his nose at the pet name, and Norah felt a pang at the reminder that her little boy was getting older, nearer to becoming a man every day.

“It’s like…” He wiggled one hand on its axis. “It feels like… how I used to feel, when Dad made you cry.” _Heartbreak,_ he didn’t say out loud. _It feels like a breaking heart._

“Oh, Leo.” Norah whispered. “That bad, huh?”

“I don’t know how to help ‘em.” Leo confessed. “But I want to.” He fiddled with the cuff of his shirt, buttoning and unbuttoning absentmindedly. “I wish there was some way I could contact them, you know? Let them know…that I’m here and I could help?” His voice lilted up on the last word, like a question. That we can ge’ through anything together.” He twists his mouth in embarrassment at his own display of vulnerability. Even so, an idea niggles at the back of his brain, a phrase looping over and over.

_Contact them…_

 

Jemma was curled up in her blanket nest, her oldest, most bedraggled stuffed animal clutched to her chest, feeling at once too young and too old. The only light in the room was the pale blue glow of the TV, and Jemma’s eyes were fixed on the scene playing out.

Tears streamed unhindered down her cheeks, as she watched Jack clutching to the edge of the makeshift raft, as the Titanic slowly sank in the background.

 _I would have found a way to save him,_ she thought, putting herself in Rose’s situation. _I couldn’t let the love of my life just… slip out of my grasp and drown. There had to be another way._

Swiping at her wet cheeks, she was distracted by an odd tickling feeling on the palm of her hand. It felt as if…someone was tracing shapes?

 

Leo paused his preparations, hoping that what he was doing wasn’t going to make things worse, or frighten his soulmate.

But the pain in his chest had only gotten worse over the past hour, and his Soulmate’s misery showed no signs of stopping soon, which had been a big factor spurring him on to try and contact them.

At first he had been hell-set on the concept of Morse Code, before quickly realizing all the pitfalls that would come with transmitting and deciphering a code. He simplified, and now was ready to test it out. If his hypothesis worked, it would change _everything._

Taking a deep breathe, he started again. Taking a retracted ballpoint pen, he pressed it to the palm of his hand, just hard enough to pass the threshold from mere sensation to discomfort.

‘A-R-E Y-O-U O-K’

He slowly and deliberately formed each letter, pausing between words to hopefully give enough time for his Soulmate to decipher what he was trying to communicate.

 

Jemma gasped, as the sensations on her hands shifted into recognizable patterns. “Are you ok?” she whispered aloud, as her brain strung the feelings together into actual words. Her heart thumped in her chest almost painfully as a rush of adrenaline filled her system.

The only one who could have known how to utilize pain receptors as a form of communication would be someone that knew she shared pain. And this person was concerned about her wellbeing.

‘It’s my Soulmate,’ she whispered, barely able to believe what was happening. My Soulmate.

“Y-E-S” She traced back carefully, “W-H-O A-R-E Y-O-U”

 

Leo could barely breathe.

“It worked.”

“M-Y N-A-M-E I-S L-E-O F-I-T-Z” He replied.

“”H-I. I-M J-E-M-M-A S-I-M-M-O-N-S” All thoughts of Tad were banished from her mind at the excitement of this new development. She turned off her movie, so she could focus on this strange and wonderful conversation.

 

Over the next hour, they talked back and forth, until their hands became sore. They eventually moved to online instant messaging, giddy that they had found each other. They shared details about themselves, delighted to find out that they were the same age and on the same landmass and shared a similar passion for science.

Several times, one of them would stop writing, just to laugh out loud in delight, covering their shining face with their hands.

_I found you. I found you._

They only fell asleep at the assurance that this wasn’t a dream, and the other wasn’t going to disappear.

“G-o-o-d-n-i-g-h-t F-i-t-z.” Jemma spelled, settling into her bed, on the verge of sleep.

“S-l-e-e-p w-e-l-l, S-i-m-m-o-n-s.” Fitz replied, before rolling over and burying his face in his pillow. He wasn’t sure when he would be able to stop smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovelies! Here is another chapter! See, at this rate i might eventually get to a consistent posting schedule :P  
> I hope you enjoy, and please leave feedback, because i love to hear from you!  
> ( Also like, yes i know Tad was probably from Early Academy Era?? but shhh this is my story now)


	4. Update

Hey everyone!

So considering I can't remember the last time I updated this fic, I am officially putting it on Hiatus, meaning that I'm not abandoning it, but putting it aside until a time when I can give it the time and attention it deserves.

At this time I have a major writing block regarding this fic and don't know how to move forward, so am going to put the time and energy that I have for fic writing into other works, which I am very passionate about.

I am very sorry, because I know a lot of you really were looking forward to future chapters, but its not fair for you to wait for new installments of this particular fic, when realistically I can't say when that would happen. :(


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